Chapter 20: Totally!

Santa Clarita, California

January 29, 2000

It was Saturday morning, 10:45, when Jake and Steph Zool pulled into the parking lot of the KVA office. They had just flown in from San Luis Obispo thirty minutes before and were well ahead of schedule for their 11:00 AM appointment. Doug Foreman’s Infiniti was already parked out front. They had found over the past few weeks that Doug was obsessive-compulsive about not being late for anything. He typically showed up at least thirty minutes early for every session or appointment.

So far, Jake enjoyed working with the former Jordan vocalist. He had been worried at first that the same clash of egos that had led to the demise of the popular group would rear its head when Jake started issuing orders and directives to the older, more experienced musician, but nothing of the sort had happened. Doug seemed grateful enough just to have a paying gig and something to keep him occupied. He genuinely seemed enthusiastic about being in the band and could not wait to hit the road for the first time in more than a decade. It was a sentiment that Jake shared as well, which served to help them bond. And the man was freaking incredible on the keyboards! Right up there with Nerdly himself.

“Good morning to you both!” Doug greeted as Jake and Steph entered the front office. He was dressed in jeans and fashionable button-up shirt. His hair was dark, thick, and curly, though much shorter these days than it had been on the back of the Jordan album covers. He had a large, expensive looking platinum wedding ring on his left ring finger. He was sipping from a cup of coffee out of the pot behind the reception area. The smell told Jake it was the Jamaican Blue he kept the office stocked with. “How was the flight in?”

“It was pretty bumpy today,” Jake said. “There’s a high-pressure system parked offshore and a low-pressure system parked over the southwest. That makes for a nasty, unsteady onshore flow over the coastal mountains. A little bit of rain too.” He shrugged. “No big though.”

“I thought it was kind of fun,” Steph said with a smile. “Like riding a roller coaster.”

“No thank you,” Doug said, shaking his head. “I’ve done my share of dicey flying over the years. Can’t say I’m fond of it.”

“Well ... you’re kind of going to have to get used to it,” Jake reminded him. “We’ll be flying in a Bombardier 600 from city to city, remember?”

“I remember,” Doug told him. “That’s a big, luxurious business jet and I’m rather looking forward to it. Back in the Jordan days, however, after we graduated from riding the bus when our first contract expired, they used to fly us on these little twin-prop jobs that looked like a rubber band was providing the power. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, did we used to bounce around when the weather was foul. I seriously thought about demanding they have a priest fly with us so I could at least receive the last rites as we plummeted to the Earth.”

“So ... you don’t want to fly to Catalina with us for lunch after the audition?” Jake asked.

“Good Lord, no,” Doug said simply. “That does not sound like my idea of an experience conducive to appetite.”

“Well, all right then,” Jake said sadly. “I was going to buy.” They were not really planning to fly to Catalina after the audition—the weather was not really suitable for landing on the elevated VFR runway there—he was just messing with the keyboard player a little.

“I appreciate the offer, but no thank you,” Doug said.

Jake and Steph each poured a cup of coffee from the pot. Both were in the habit of drinking their brew black. As they took their first sips, Doug brought up the audition they were here to conduct. “What is this young lady’s name?” he asked.

“Tiffany Moreland,” Jake said. “And she is indeed young. Only twenty-five.”

“Hmmph,” Doug grunted, shaking his head a little. “The youngest of the bunch so far.”

“That is true,” Jake agreed. To this point, National Records had sent them four separate soprano singers to audition for the position of backup singer for the upcoming tour. All of them had worked in the various studios that National held interest in, and all had had pleasant, trained singing voices, but none promised to be a good fit for the motley group Jake had assembled. The first two had been completely unfamiliar with Jake’s music and were visibly afraid to even be in his presence. The third had been a married woman who declared that she would not agree to a contract if KVA did not agree to fly her home every weekend to be with her husband. The fourth had been a militant feminist who handed Jake a list of six of his songs that she declared that she would refuse to sing because they were sexist.

“Does this chick have any touring experience?” Steph asked.

“No,” Jake said. “She’s a studio vocalist who works mostly on commercials and backing vocals for music scores.”

“That doesn’t sound very hopeful,” Doug said with a frown.

“No,” Jake agreed. “It really doesn’t.”

“And she’s been making her living doing this?” asked Steph.

“That’s my understanding,” Jake said with a shrug. “I only know what Crow told me on the phone. He says he thinks that Tiffany will fit right in with us. Of course, Crow is the same guy who declared that vomit metal would be the wave of the future, so his track record is not all that impressive.”

“Vomit metal?” Doug asked, raising his eyebrows.

“A little thing that came and went last year,” Jake explained. “The boys over at National were really excited about it. Thought it was going to be the next grunge and they were getting in on the ground floor. Apparently the catch with the vomit metal was to sound even worse than death metal or hard punk. The bands they signed were going out of their way to deliberately play and sing in an uncoordinated fashion and out of key. There was always one member of the group—usually a guitarist—who did not even know how to play his instrument at all. His job was to jangle out random shit on a high-distortion setting and then lay down a solo at some point.”

Doug and Steph were both looking at him with wide eyes. “Are you making this up?” Doug asked.

“Not at all,” Jake said with a chuckle. “They found these bands playing in clubs over in the desert areas of the inland empire. You know? The places where meth is king? They signed like six separate bands, had them come in and lay down their tracks, and, when it came time to promote, pretty much every radio station refused to play the tunes because they were that bad.”

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Doug said, shaking his head. “It’s no wonder that National Records stock has been in a downward spiral for the last two years.”

A silhouette appeared behind the blinds on the main entrance and a moment later the door, which Jake had left unlocked, was pulled open. An attractive young woman hesitated for a moment and then stepped inside. She was wearing an extremely short denim miniskirt that showed off her long, sexy legs very well. Her shirt was sleeveless and short enough to show her flat midriff and the ring threaded through her belly button. Her breasts were moderate in size, seemingly natural at first glance, and it was clear she was not wearing a bra. Her face was pretty, with a bulbous nose that had a ring threaded through the left nostril. She also had multiple piercings in both ears with perhaps a half pound or so of combined weight dangling from the holes. Her hair was platinum blonde and arranged in pigtails. Her eyes were brown and bright. She smiled when she saw the trio standing there. Her eyes then locked directly on Jake.

“It really is you!” she squealed; the tone of her voice quite high. “My agent was not just screwing with me!”

“It really is me,” Jake said, returning her smile. “You must be Tiffany?”

“That’s right,” she said, letting the door close behind her and stepping forward. “Tiffany Moreland. Most people just call me Tif.”

“Is that what you prefer?” Jake asked.

Her face clouded over in confusion. “What?” she asked.

“Uh ... that we call you Tif?” Jake said.

“Oh ... yeah,” she said, nodding rapidly. “That’s my name. Only my mom calls me Tiffany.”

“Fair enough, Tif,” Jake told her. “As you seemed to have recognized, I’m Jake Kingsley.”

“I know!” she said excitedly. “I totally love your music, Jake! Totally! I own all of your CDs and play them all the time!”

“That’s good,” Jake said, nodding, marking that as a point in her favor. If she really did own all his CDs and listened to them all the time, it would be so much easier to plug her into her role in the band. “Anyway, this is Stephanie Zool. She’s going to...”

“The Stephanie Zool?” Tif interrupted.

“If you’re thinking of the lead guitarist and one of the singers for Brainwash, then yes, the Stephanie Zool. She’s going to be my lead guitarist and contralto backup on the tour.”

“Oh my Gawd, oh my Gawd!” Tif squealed excitedly. “This is so totally awesome! I love Brainwash too! Even the second CD, though the first is totally the bomb!”

“Thanks,” Steph said, smiling.

“This is just soooo cool,” Tif said.

“And this,” Jake continued, “is Doug Foreman. He’ll be the keyboardist and the tenor backup. You probably know Doug from the group Jordan. He was the lead singer back in the day.”

Tif’s face scrunched for a moment and then recognition flared there. “Oh yeah!” she said, nodding her head. “Jordan! My mom listens to Jordan.”

“Your mom, huh?” Doug said, shaking his head a little.

“That’s right,” Tif said. “She’s totally into you! Maybe if this works out I could bring her here to meet you?”

“Perhaps,” Jake said. “But let’s see how the audition goes before we start making meet and greet plans, shall we?”

“Oh ... yeah, totally!” Tif said. “Let’s do it!”

Well, she is certainly enthusiastic, Jake thought. He walked over to the main door and locked it. He then led Tif, Steph, and Doug down the hall to the main studio door. He unlocked it by punching in the code and swung the heavy door open. Inside, all of the band’s equipment was set up as it had been yesterday when they knocked off for the weekend. Lucky’s fifteen-piece drum set stood on a platform. Doug’s keyboard set sat just in front of the platform. There were three microphone stands set up with stools in front of them. Jake’s was at front and center of the makeshift stage. Steph’s was just to the right of Jake. And another, intended for their future soprano backup singer, was just to the left of Doug’s keyboard setup.

“This is soooo cool,” Tif said in awe as she took everything in.

“We’re just working on the basic tunes at this point in the process,” Jake told her. “Why don’t you have a seat in that stool there?” Jake asked, pointing at the soprano position.

“Sure,” she said, plopping herself down on it. As she did so, her legs came apart for a very long moment, giving all three musicians a clear look between them. She was wearing semi-transparent black panties. She did not seem to notice the free show she had just provided and did not seem cunning enough to have done it on purpose. Steph smiled a bit lasciviously. Jake slowly blinked his eyes. Doug made the sign of the cross and muttered ‘Jesus, Mary, and Joseph’ under his breath.

“All right then,” Jake said. “Before we get started, tell us a little bit about yourself.”

“Oh ... sure,” Tif said. “I’m ... you know ... twenty-five, I’m a Taurus, though my birthday is May 20 so I am on the Gemini cusp. My mom says that’s why I’m not as stubborn as a traditional Taurus and why I’m so extroverted and trusting. That’s my Gemini side. Of course, I still have a strong trait of dependability from my natural Taurus disposition.”

“Uh ... yeah, that makes sense,” Jake said slowly, “but what I was shooting for here, is ... you know ... tell us how long you’ve been singing, how you got into the studio sessions, what kind of vocal training you have, stuff like that.”

“Oh ... yeah, sure,” Tif said. “That kind of stuff. I’ve been singing since I was little girl. My mom used to enroll me in these beauty pageants when I was little—ever since I was like five years old or so. She used to tell me I was gonna be Miss America someday.” She shrugged. “That never really happened. I stopped doin the pageants when I was like sixteen. I got too fat.”

“Too fat?” Steph asked, raising her eyebrows a bit. Tif had an extremely healthy-looking body mass index. She was, in fact, built like a brick shithouse, as Jim Scanlon or Matt Tisdale would say.

“Yeah, you know how it is?” Tif said sadly. “The camera adds pounds. My coaches and my mom kept wanting me to ... you know ... make myself throw up or take those medicines that make you poop to keep my weight down, but I just didn’t like it. I got stubborn and refused to do it—I guess that was my Taurus side finally coming out—so she stopped entering me in those things.”

“Your mom sound like quite a parent,” Steph said, a bleak look in her eyes now.

“Yeah, she’s great!” Tif piped out. “Always looking out for my interests. I feel bad that I didn’t take her advice back then, but I really don’t like to throw up. I don’t like having to poop all the time either. Anyway, back when I was like thirteen or so, my mom noticed I had a good singing voice so she got me lessons, thinking that it would help me win the talent parts of the pageants. I had a great instructor. He taught me all about how to use my voice properly, about timing, about keys, all that stuff. And I really like singing. It’s like the thing I’m best at in life. I stayed with him for the next three years. I stopped doing the pageants, but I sang in the school choir and I got the part of Annie in the school musical, although I had to drop out of that. I had trouble doing the non-singing parts.”

“The non-singing parts?” Steph asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “You know? Those parts where you’re not singing but have to spout out a bunch of dialogue?”

“You mean the acting?” Doug asked.

“Yeah, the acting,” she confirmed. “The part of the play where I wasn’t singing. I couldn’t memorize all those lines—there was like soooo many of them—and the director kept saying I couldn’t project emotion or something like that.” Another shrug. “Like that is the most important part or something. Anyway, after I graduated from high school—three hundred and four in my class! —I got a job as one of those singing waitresses at that Italian place.” She pronounced it ‘eye-tal-eon’ with strong emphasis on the ‘eye’.

“Opera While You Eat?” Jake asked.

“That’s it,” she said. “You’ve been there?”

“No,” Jake said, “but someone I’m acquainted with used to sing there.”

“It was a cool job,” she said with a nostalgic smile. “I even heard a rumor not long ago that Phil Genkins from V-tach used to sing there too. Have you heard of him?”

“Uh ... perhaps,” Jake said. “I think I might have heard that name before.”

“V-tach is this totally rad band,” Tif informed him. “Came out a few years ago and just put out their second CD. They play them on the radio all the time and I hear they’re out on tour now. They’re really tight.”

“I’m always on the lookout for a really tight band,” Jake said with a smile.

“Totally!” Tiff said enthusiastically. “Anyway, it’s probably just a bunch of bull, you know. I totally can’t see someone like Phil working in a place like that.”

“That does sound pretty far out there,” Jake said. “Anyway, when did you start getting studio gigs?”

“When I was nineteen,” she said. “It was just here and there at first, but they liked my voice so they gradually kept having me come back for more. These days I usually will work on a project five days a week for like three or four weeks and then go a month or so without anything. They call me when they need a good, reliable soprano singer for something. I make good money when I’m working, but with the long periods without work I don’t make enough to move out of my mom’s house, but I totally like living there anyway.”

“I see,” Jake said, and then, more out of simple morbid curiosity than anything else, he asked, “What does your mom do?”

“She’s a professional astrologer,” Tif said proudly. “Isn’t that the bomb?”

“A ... professional astrologer?” Jake asked. “How does one make money doing that?”

“She has a website,” Tif said. “People pay Mom like ten bucks a month to have her type out a horoscope for them for each week of the year. She has quite the following.”

“And she’s able to support herself and you on this income?” Steph asked.

“Well ... no, she doesn’t make that much money,” Tif said. “Not now anyway. She’s mostly living off the alimony she gets from her ex-husband.”

“Your father?” Doug asked.

“No,” Tif said with a laugh. “My father was three husbands back. That alimony ran out a long time ago. George is her current ex-husband. He owns a plumbing company and is pretty rich. Makes like eighty thousand dollars a year! She is hoping that by the time the alimony cuts off in 2002, her website will be big enough to support her on its own. If not, she’ll have to take out a loan on the house or something.”

“I see,” Jake said again. Enough of the preliminaries, he thought, unimpressed with her so far. Let’s hear her mangle a few tunes so we can dismiss her and go home and start waiting for the next audition. “How about we get started? Do you need to do any vocal warmups or anything like that?”

“I should be good,” Tif said. “I took my ointment just two days ago. What do you want me to do?”

Ointment? Jake thought. What the hell is she talking about? He almost asked but then decided he did not really care. He stood up and went over to the control board. “I’m going to turn on your microphone there so we can do a quick sound check. How about you run through the vocal scales for me to dial you in?”

“Okay,” she said simply, giving Jake a little hope when she did not ask him what the vocal scales were.

Jake powered up the board, turned on the speakers, and then flipped the switch for the Backup 3 Vocal microphone. He slid the little master lever assigned to that mic to the midrange position. “All right, Tif,” he said. “Let’s hear what you got.”

She began to run through the major scales one by one, belting each out for about five notes. Jake listened and adjusted the volume until it was where he wanted it. At the same time, he listened to her voice and evaluated it. It was quite pretty and she nailed each note with precision, in exactly the range it was supposed to be in. Jake looked over at Steph and Doug as she did this. Both gave him a nod of surprised approval.

“All right,” Jake said. “That sounds good. Now let’s hear you do some acapello. What are some of your favorite soprano songs?”

“Well ... I have a bunch of them,” she said, “but I think my favorite is probably the theme song from Titanic.”

“My Heart Will Go On?” Steph said.

“No, the theme song from Titanic,” she insisted. “You know? Celine Dion?”

“Uh ... right, of course,” Jake said slowly. My God, he thought, she is really not playing with a full deck here. “Go ahead and sing it for us.”

“Bitchin’!” she said happily. She took a few deep breaths, massaged her vocal chords for a moment, and then began to sing the oh-so-familiar love song that had been plying the radio airwaves for the past two and half years. And she absolutely nailed it. Nobody was going to mistake her for Celine herself, but she stayed perfectly in range, altered her notes appropriately, and kept perfectly in time. And her voice was quite pleasant to listen to, a classic soprano.

Jake, Doug, and Steph looked at each other again as she reached the part about her heart going on (with apparently no inkling that that was the actual title of the piece) and nodded to each other again. This girl definitely had what they were looking for as far as voice went. But there was a lot more to being a touring backup singer for Jake Kingsley than just voice.

Jake had her do a few more acapello pieces for them. She sang the chorus for I Can’t Fight This Feeling Anymore by REO Speedwagon, the entire first half of Dancing Queen by ABBA, the entire first half of Torn by Natalie Imbruglia (which Tif thought was titled Naked on the Floor), and then wrapped it up with the first verse and chorus of Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John. In every song she proved herself a competent and expressive vocalist that was quite pleasant to listen to.

“I’m impressed, Tif,” Jake told her when this phase was done.

“Thanks,” she said brightly. “I really do love to sing.”

“It seems like your training stuck with you pretty well,” Steph said. “You were keeping perfectly in time and in key.”

“Well ... yeah,” she said. “That’s what singing is all about, right?”

“Right,” Doug said, smiling.

“Why don’t we see how you do on some of my actual tunes?” Jake said next. “We’ll play out the base melodies for you and all sing those parts. What’s your favorite Jake Kingsley tune that you would be singing backup in?” This was part audition and part test of her vocal and genre knowledge. If she really did know his tunes and she really did know her shit as a singer, then she should know which particular songs she would be needed in.

She passed the test. Without hesitation, she said, “Insignificance. I love the whole song. It’s soooo romantic. But I really love the mixing of the tenor and soprano vocals on the choruses.”

Jake nodded, not mentioning that Insignificance was light years away from being a romantic song—it was actually about the hopelessness and futility of the entire human existence—because that did not matter. “Let’s do some Insig then. We don’t have Kevin here to play the violin parts, but I can strum it out on my guitar and we can do the full-on vocals. Sound good?”

“Sounds good,” Tif agreed happily.

Jake went and got his Ibanez from the rack it was sitting on and plugged it in. He strummed it a few times to make sure it was still in tune from yesterday—it was—and then spent a few minutes doing a sound check on it. He then sound checked the mics for Doug and Steph. Once everything was copacetic (thank God I didn’t bring the Nerdlys here today or we’d still be sound checking Tif’s mic, he thought) he began to play out the primary melody for one of his most popular and cross-demographic tunes. He went through three reps of the melody to plug himself in and then began to sing out the first verse. He sang it well, without so much as a missed note (it helped that they had been working on this very tune for the second half of the week) and then rolled into the first chorus, the part where the soprano backup singer came in. He rolled into it solo. Tif did not jump in with him. She was just sitting there, staring at him with an expression of awe in her brown eyes.

He ground his guitar to a halt. “Uh ... Tif,” he said gently. “This was the part where you were supposed to jump in with me. You are familiar with the piece, right?”

She blushed quite brightly. “Oh my Gawd!” she blurted. “I am ... like ... so sorry. It was just so radical to watch you play one of my favorite songs—I mean, I’m like watching Jake Kingsley play unplugged just for me! —that I forgot I was supposed to sing.”

“I’m flattered that I can distract you that way,” Jake said. “Now, if we try it again, will you remember to sing this time?”

“Totally!” she promised.

He ran through it again. And this time, she jumped in with him at the appropriate point in the chorus. And she sang it beautifully, with just the right amount of projection and in perfect timing and key. She knew when to start singing and she knew when to stop and let Jake carry it through alone. They went through the entire song except for the solo and the outro—it was really hard to pull off the solo and the outro without a violin—and then brought the tune to a halt.

“That was amazing,” Jake said.

“I really do love that song,” Tif said. “I was just singing it like I do in the shower.”

“You only sing the backup parts in the shower?” Steph asked.

“Well ... duh,” Tif said. “Jake’s a tenor. I can’t sing in a tenor voice.”

“Right,” Steph said. “Of course. Makes sense.” She blew a little air through her pursed lips.

“All right then,” Jake said. “Let’s do something else. Are you familiar with Can’t Keep Me Down?”

“I know all of your songs, Jake,” she assured him.

“Even the Intemperance songs?” Doug asked.

“Intemperance?” Tif asked, clearly confused. “You mean that death metal band?”

“Uh ... yeah,” Doug said slowly. “That’s where Jake got his start, you know.”

She looked over at him in surprise. “You were with Intemperance?” she asked, her eyes wide.

Jesus fucking Christ, Jake thought, unsure whether to feel old or to feel pity for the lack of neural synapses in Tif’s pretty little head. “I was,” he confirmed. “I used to sing for them. Played some guitar too.”

“Wow,” she said. “That’s totally weird! I never got into Intemperance. Too loud, too harsh for me.”

“Well, we won’t be doing any Intemperance material in the tour,” Jake assured her.

“Oh ... well that’s good,” Tif said. And then her eyes lit up a little. “If you were with Intemperance, then you’re the one who snorted coke out of that girl’s butt, right?”

“Uh ... that’s the rumor,” Jake said.

Her eyes developed a little shine. “Now that sounds totally cool,” she said. “Do you still ... you know ... do things like that?”

“I do not,” Jake said. “I have not used cocaine in more than ten years now and I’m pretty sure my wife would not let me snort it out of her butt crack even if I did pick the habit back up.”

“Oh,” Tif said, clearly disappointed. “That’s too bad.”

“So then,” Jake said. “How about we do some Can’t Keep Me Down?”

“Let’s do it,” Tif said.

They ran through it. Since the backup singing was only needed on the choruses, Jake only played that part, strumming it out on his Ibanez. Unlike Insig, however, all three of the backup singers needed to sing in harmony for this tune. They had only run through Down a few times during rehearsals to this point, so both Steph and Doug were a little rusty with the timing. Tif put both of them to shame, once again nailing the part pretty much to perfection.

They did Nothing is Different Now next. They followed that up with Hit the Highway and then rolled into The Life I Lead. They then tried a few choruses of Ocean View. Tif shined in every single rendition, always keeping in time and in key and singing with an enthusiastic projection that brought smiles to everyone’s faces. By the time they were finished with Highway, Jake had already decided to offer her the job if she was willing to take it.

“I am impressed with you, Miss Tiffany,” Jake told her when they were done.

“Really?” she asked carefully, as if she thought he might be screwing with her.

“Really,” he assured her.

“Me as well, lass,” Doug said.

“Ditto,” said Steph. “You have a beautiful voice and you know how to use it.”

“This is like ... so totally cool,” Tif said, smiling now.

“I’m inclined to offer you the position of soprano backup singer for the tour,” Jake told her.

Her brow furrowed suddenly. “Inclined?” she asked.

“Uh ... that means encouraged to, leaning toward, would like to,” Jake said.

“Oh!” she said brightly. “So ... it’s like the opposite of disinclined, right?”

“Uh ... right,” Jake said slowly. “Anyway, I would like to offer you the position, but...”

“I’ll take it!” Tif said excitedly. “Oh my Gawd, oh my Gawd! I can’t believe this is really happening!”

“Well ... before we go signing any papers,” Jake said, “there are a few things we should go over.”

Tif’s eyes widened a bit and then she nodded as if she suddenly realized something. “Ohhhh, yes, of course,” she said. She looked at Jake then at Doug then at Steph. A little confusion came to her face now. “Ummm well, I know what needs to be done here, but ... do you want me to do it with ... you know ... Stephanie in the room?”

The three musicians looked at each other in confusion. “Do what with Stephanie in the room?” Jake asked.

She gave him a coy smile. “You know?” she said.

“No, I’m afraid I don’t know,” Jake said.

She huffed a little and then curled her right hand as if she were holding something tubular. She then opened her mouth and moved that hand back and forth in front of it. The universal sign language for a blowjob.

Jake was at a loss for words for a moment. Doug gave another Jesus, Mary, and Joseph and crossed himself again. Steph just shook her head.

“That is not what I was talking about,” Jake said at last.

“It wasn’t?” Tif asked, surprised. “Are you sure? I mean ... I was just wondering if I should do it with Stephanie here or if she was going to step out first. I mean ... you are a lesbian, right Stephanie? I’ll do you too if you want.” She shrugged. “I kind of like doing that every once in a while.”